


if you seen it then you mean it, then you know you have to go

by jooheon



Series: when i'm sixty-four [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 16:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14674980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooheon/pseuds/jooheon
Summary: His home is Makoto and everything about him, the shape and the smell of him, the years they've spent together, the memories, and the feeling racing through his veins right now, the one that Haru's never had the courage to call love. // or, the one in which Haru works through his feelings about going to Tokyo, and about Makoto (because the two just might be one and the same).





	if you seen it then you mean it, then you know you have to go

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I still love makoharu lol, and I'll never give up on this AU which is so very near and dear to my heart. It's become divergent from canon and will likely only become more so with this summer's new season, but as of now the only real difference is that Haru and Makoto never fight, and Haru doesn't go to Australia with Rin. 
> 
> If you recognize the song the title of this fic is lifted from, thank you and I love you! You have excellent taste!
> 
> Also, until I figure out if I can change the order that works appear in a series, just a heads up: this takes place before [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3208181), chronologically. Technically this'd take place during Eternal Summer.

His parents are stern, but still sort of sweet about it, at least — "Yes, darling we _do_ want you to be free, but no, darling, you really _can't_ just stay at home and do nothing after you graduate" — but Goro rejects him with unapologetic relish.

"Sorry, kid, nothin' doin'," he tells Haru flat-out, hands shoved into the pockets of his beige khaki shorts.

Haru frowns and points over Goro's shoulder to the We're Hiring sign, neon green block letters on a rumpled sheet of copy paper pinned to the wall. "Seriously?"

Goro sighs. "Look, kid, I'm really just not in a position to hire you right now."

"Did the meaning of 'we're hiring' change since the last time I checked?" Haru says, crossing his arms pointedly.

"I'm just not gonna hire _you_ ," Goro clarifies. "Not now for part time, not after you graduate for full time — nope. Not happening."

That stings, but Haru waits silent and stone-faced for Goro to elaborate.

"Haruka, listen," Goro goes on, "I'm not — it's not that I wouldn't be happy for you to come and work here. You're no Makoto, but you are a great swimmer, and you'd be great for the older kids. But, see — you're a _great_ swimmer. That's the thing. So you can't just come work for some crummy swim club straight out of high school, it just wouldn't be right."

"So you get to decide what's right for me?" Haru says heatedly.

Goro softens with a smile. "Yeah, y'know, I think I kinda do."

"That makes no — "

"You're young and _this is your time_ ," Goro says, slamming one hand on the counter for emphasis. "Don't just settle in here because it's comfortable! You're young, you can do _anything_ , and I can tell you just want to stay here because it's the path of least resistance. There's a _time_ for settling in here, working the old swim club, and that's only once you've already gone out and done your own shit for a while. Hell, I that's what I did. Went out, tried to make it as a swimmer — and look how that turned out, huh? But then I came back here, got a job I loved, and _never_ doubted that this was what I wanted. Well, until she went under, and all that, but y’know what, I came back for round two, and here we are! Back in business. Trial and error, baby, it’s all about trial and error."

"What if I already know what I want?" Haru challenges.

"You only know what you're familiar with," Goro says. Then he smiles again. "It's your life, kid. Go out and live it, yeah?"

 

 

Goro's inane, hopelessly trite advice isn't why Haru goes to Tokyo. And neither are Rin's heavy-handed entreaties, or Ama-sensei's no-nonsense lectures, or even his parents' eventual threats to stop paying the bills for the house. In the end, there isn't one single thing that really drives the decision; it's a mess of things, a maelstrom of little reasons that push him resolutely, inexorably on that sloping eastward path.

He doesn't even really realize it himself until August, right after regionals, when a young, earnest scout with bleached hair and chunky hipster glasses says incredulously, _Don't tell me you haven't considered this at least once?_ and Haru says, _No_ , and it tastes like a lie.

Because he'd thought of it, sure, but lately he's been _thinking_ about it. During long, lukewarm soaks in the tub, during class when the weather's nice, during morning runs along the beach with Makoto. He's been thinking — things like, _I could keep swimming with Rin_ , and _Tokyo's not so bad_. Traitorous things. Things that pull hard against the tide of his heart, which has always whispered, soft as a seashell-echo, _I like the way things are now_.

Sometimes Nagisa will yawn and stretch and roll onto his side on the hot roof during lunch, and bemoan the fate of the club next year.

"What are we gonna _do_ ," he'll say loudly, theatrically, "I'm gonna miss you two so _much_!"

And Haru will blink at him once to say, _Me too_.

"We're not crossing that bridge til we get to it, _but_ ," Gou will say smartly, "I do have my eye on this first year on track."

"Ooh, Gou-chan has a crush!"

"It's nothing like that, I'm _scouting_ for you dweebs!"

And Haru will go back to his lunch, chewing slowly and trying not to think melodramatic thoughts. Things like, _People just move on without thinking about who gets left behind_.

Nagisa also says, one time, "You're lucky, Haru-chan. That scout was pretty cute."

"Was he," Haru says tonelessly, and watches Makoto's cheeks flush dark pink.

" _Nagisa!_ " Makoto sputters helplessly. "You — just — _jeez_ — !"

"Well, he _was_ ," Nagisa says with a shrug.

Haru still has the scout's business card tucked beneath an old planner in his desk drawer. Sometimes he takes it out, turns it over in his hands, and goes to throw it away, only to stop, sigh, and slip it back into the drawer.

 

 

Nationals are one long spike of adrenaline and massive sensory overload. The first heat is over in the blink of an eye, and then it's Makoto's hand drawing him up out of the water and Nagisa and Rei bellowing incoherently in each of his ears and from somewhere in the crowd, Sasabe and Gou chanting in time to the staccato thrumming of his heart. In the locker room afterwards, Nagisa cries and hugs everyone at least six times, and then he and Rei race off to meet Gou and the others. Haru stays behind, towel draped over his shoulders, beads of chlorinated water dripping slowly off his bangs as he tries to make his mind stop racing, tries to make this just about the water. It's just _swimming_. It's about feeling the water, being free — _not_ the heart-stopping headrush of winning, or the scouts he knows are somewhere watching from the tumultuous crowd.

Makoto sits next to him on the bench. "Haru?"

"Yeah."

"I have to tell you something." Makoto's voice wavers a little. "And — before I say it, don't be mad that I didn't tell you before. I'm really sorry. I kept waiting for the right time, but — there never really is one, it seems like. I have to just say it."

"So say it," Haru says impatiently.

"Okay." Makoto takes a deep breath, then looks Haru square in the eye. "I'm going to Tokyo. For school. I applied to a university in Tokyo."

There's anxiety in Makoto's eyes, like he's afraid Haru might snap and yell at him or something. And, yeah, Haru is pretty weirded out that Makoto would spring this on him totally out of the blue, but he's not _mad_ , and he opens his mouth to say that, but what comes out is this:

"Me, too."

Makoto’s mouth drops open comically.

“Haru, what do you mean — Tokyo — you — ?”

Haru swallows. His heart is beating fast, maybe because this is uncharted territory and he’s almost never felt this vulnerable before in his life, maybe because Makoto’s looking at him glassy-eyed and flushed in a way that makes him weak in the knees.

“I can’t stay in Iwatobi,” Haru says slowly, staring down at the floor. “I thought I just didn’t like change, but it’s not even that. I don’t want to leave home. And this — swimming — swimming to win — it’s become a home for me, and staying here would be giving that up so…” He trails off, hyper-conscious of Makoto’s eyes on him. He looks up, meets that warm gaze. “And... if you’re going to be there, Makoto.”

“Haru,” Makoto whispers.

There are more words, but Makoto’s looking at him so tenderly, and Haru knows that he knows. This is his home right here: the warm wordlessness between them, and the unconditional affection brimming in Makoto’s eyes, and the heat flaring in his chest, tight with anticipation. His home is Makoto and everything about him, the shape and the smell of him, the years they’ve spent together, the memories, and the feeling racing through his veins right now, the one that Haru’s never had the courage to call love.

Haru isn’t conscious of leaning in, but Makoto’s mirroring him, until they’re face-to-face, so close their noses are bumping, and now that he’s here and it feels so natural, it’s crazy that in all the time they’ve spent with each other that he and Makoto have never kissed before. Or maybe it makes perfect sense; maybe this is the point they’ve been building to slowly their entire lives, maybe there’s no hurry, maybe it’s written in some cosmic plan that Makoto and Haru should have their first kiss here in this Tokyo locker room, poolwater still drying on their skin, Makoto’s fingers gently cupping Haru’s chin and Haru’s hands grasping at Makoto’s shoulders. Their lips meet for a few seconds, probably, but it feels like forever, Haru’s pulse racing and every inch of him tingling.

When Haru pulls back a little and opens his eyes, Makoto’s smile is dazzling.

“Hey, Haru,” he says, and his eyes are shining. “Let’s stay together.”

Again, Haru could respond in words. He has that capability. It just seems so much simpler to lean in once more and kiss Makoto again, a little more insistently now, and trust that that’s enough. That Makoto gets it, like he always has and probably always will. That his answer is so natural, he doesn’t have to voice it.

_Of course I want to stay together with you._

 

* * *

 

Rei and Nagisa are there at the train station with Makoto’s family to see them off, as well as Rin and Gou. The Iwatobi swim club members had their emotional last club meeting last week, and Haru’d thought that would be the end of the tears, but no, Nagisa’s sniffling and Gou’s wiping at her eyes and Rei’s holding it together, but just barely. Rin is surprisingly dry-eyed, though.

“Haru,” Rin says, thumping Haru on the back.

“Ow,” Haru says.

“You better work hard,” Rin continues. “‘Cause I’m gonna get even better in Australia.”

“I know,” Haru mutters. “I will.”

Rin laughs, his hand coming to rest on Haru’s shoulder. “Awesome. And, hey, Haru?”

“Mm?”

“Let’s stay in touch.” Rin’s voice is warm, and Haru feels a sudden burst of nostalgia for the weird, over-loud crybaby Rin who’d fired him up all those years ago.

“Yeah,” Haru says. Rin smiles, and turns to Makoto.

“I guess I’m better off saying that to the guy who actually knows how to use a phone,” he says. “Good luck in Tokyo, Makoto. Call me sometime. Or, y’know, Skype or whatever.”

“I don’t know what that is,” Makoto admits with a sheepish laugh. “But I’ll call you, Rin. Good luck in Australia.”

There always used to be something that discomfited Haru about Rin going to Australia — maybe the idea of him going far away, maybe the idea of him chasing his dream, lit by the flame of an ambition Haru couldn’t even fathom. But now, he realizes, he’s fine with it, because now he and Rin have that in common. A sense of purpose. Rin will follow the path where he belongs, and Haru will do the same.

Because there’s no denying that the prospect of Tokyo is slightly terrifying, and Haru has no illusions about the upcoming years being easy or free of hurdles. But as he accepts everyone’s final goodbye hugs, ruffles Nagisa’s hair and lets Gou cling to his biceps one last time, as he boards the train and settles in at Makoto’s side, their arms touching and their fingers intertwined, there is no doubt in his mind that yes: this is where he belongs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> I'm off to rewatch that clip of makoharu in Shibuya lol


End file.
